


day 1

by sky_reid



Series: luxury smut [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Famous Louis, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Football | Soccer, M/M, Non-Famous Harry, Porn, Rimming, Vacation, if u squint, nice, there's like a hint of comeplay and marking but rly, this is v tame compared to some things i've written, with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry and louis start their vacation in the maldives with a very lazy day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rolo (spilledorangejuice)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilledorangejuice/gifts).



> hello :) i was surprisingly inspired by this prompt so it is now a series! woohoo! anyway it's mostly porn oops, i hope it makes you happy anyway :)

_day 1_

There’s a moment when Harry wakes up, right before he opens his eyes and he’s still on that verge where he could go back to sleep if he wanted to, when he forgets where he is. The bed is just a little softer than the one they have at home and the sheets don’t smell of their usual fabric softener; there’s a calming rhythmic whoosh coming from the outside and the air smells fresh and salty which is what finally makes him realise where he is. He blinks his eyes open slowly. He’s lying on the pillow now, having lost his clothes sometime in the night and the thin sheet that covers him comes up to his nose; the first thing he sees is the open sea, the glittering surface of it almost the same colour as the clear sky, blurring the horizon line between them and making him feel like he’s floating somewhere in the blue. It’s not as warm as he thought the tropics would be, not as humid and a lot breezier. He snuggles down into the bed a bit and pulls the sheet tighter around himself.

 

Louis is sitting on the edge of the deck, naked but for a pair of underwear, probably dangling his legs and dipping his toes into the sea if Harry knows him. He’s eating, big plastic spoon poking into a bowl of something that looks like Greek yoghurt; a drop of it is smeared over his chin. Harry can feel the fondness blooming on his face.

 

He groans as he stretches out, making his back pop. His body feels heavy when he crawls out of bed and he still feels like his skin is covered in grime, but he’s not as drained of energy as he was last night. The sliding door that leads out onto the deck is already open, letting a light breeze into the room and bringing the outside in. It’s still a bit of a shock to walk out and be faced with nothing but the sea for miles, to smell the salt in the air instead of the smog, to feel for the first time in weeks completely relaxed and not like he needs to look over his shoulder to make sure no one is taking photos. He takes a deep breath closes his eyes, letting the peacefulness and calm wash over him.

 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Louis greets around the spoon. Harry didn’t even think Louis was aware of him standing there.

 

“Sleeping Beauty was woken by her true love’s kiss,” Harry teases back as he sits down next to Louis with his legs crossed Indian-style.

 

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. “I tried, you were out like a log.” He sighs heavily and slumps over. “Maybe I’m just not your true love.” He looks at Harry under his lashes and pouts exaggeratedly. Harry shoves at him. “Oi!” Louis shouts, nearly dropping the bowl he’s holding. “You’re such a little shit,” he says through giggles. He lifts his arms to accommodate Harry’s legs when Harry throws them over his lap and lies back on the warm planks. Harry feels the cold bowl being placed on his knees.

 

“What are you eating?” he asks.

 

“No clue. Couldn’t read anything on the package. It tastes like some exotic fruit and cream.”

 

Harry’s got his eyes on the sky, watching a few birds fly overhead while Louis finishes his breakfast. It’s quiet around them, just the waves and the wind and the occasional bird. Harry is surprised at how much he’s enjoying that; he’s usually a people person, loves to be in a crowd, picks city holidays where he can walk around surrounded by people and listen to their language, observe the culture, get a feeling for the place. He figures he’s had a bit too much of that recently.

 

“We should not have gone to sleep without a shower yesterday, I feel _disgusting_.” He lets his arm fall over the deck and trails his fingers over the surface of the water.

 

“Mm, yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn’t have passed out on top of me,” Louis replies, giving Harry’s feet a short tickle. Harry kicks out at his hands.

 

“’t was your fault.” Louis hums a bit. Harry can hear him putting the bowl down somewhere and then he’s grabbing Harry’s ankles and holding them together tightly. “What are you doing?” Harry asks, having long learnt to always be suspicious around Louis. He tries to sit up, propping himself up on one elbow, but Louis leans over him with a mischievous grin and before he can tear his eyes away from Louis’ face and react in any way he feels his body rolling to the side and then the ground just disappears underneath him and he’s falling. There’s a brief moment where he’s suspended in mid-air, off the deck but not quite falling yet, when he feels like his heart stops and he shrieks as he drops into the water. It’s warm enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s going into cardiac arrest when he breaks surface, but he still ends up swallowing what feels like half the sea and chokes when it goes up his nose. It takes him a bit to recover from the shock before he can swim back up. Through the clear water he can see a slightly distorted image of Louis holding a hand over his mouth and pressing the other to his tummy as his whole body folds over in laughter. A few bubbles rise up to the surface when Harry laughs too.

 

His lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, but he manages to stay underwater for a while longer, watching Louis laugh before grabbing both of Louis’ bony ankles and yanking them towards himself so Louis overbalances and falls in as well.

 

While Louis is waving his arms and legs around trying not to sink too far, Harry floats up and takes a few huge gulps of air, fully anticipating Louis to try to drown him as soon as he can. Louis does indeed surface as close to him as possible and grabs his waist, but instead of pushing him underwater again he just holds on and leans closer. He’s grinning, eyes sparkling and hair sticking up at strange angles and Harry can’t help but smile back. He grabs at one of the wooden poles holding the deck up with one hand, keeping them both afloat since Louis is just clinging onto him at this point and peppering kisses over his collarbones and neck. Harry gets a hand under one of his thighs and lifts him up a little higher.

 

“Feel cleaner yet?” Louis teases. Harry just rolls his eyes and kisses him.

 

*

 

By the time Harry comes out of the shower Louis is already napping on the daybed, the light reflecting from the pool and painting beautiful moving patterns over his skin. He smells of salt and the sea when Harry approaches him. His skin already seems to have that healthy golden glow about it that he’s lost over the last few weeks. Harry grabs the tanning lotion from the deck chair Louis’ pulled up to rest his drink on; it’s bright green and suspicious-looking, but the ice in it is already melting and Harry thinks that’s quite a shame so he finishes what’s left of it. It tastes citrusy and mildly alcoholic, cool and freshening on a rapidly warming day.

 

Harry puts the tanning lotion everywhere he can reach and adds a thin layer to Louis’ nose just so it doesn’t burn. The tip of Louis’ nose twitches a bit and then he scrunches it up and squints at Harry. “Don’t wanna wake up,” he mumbles. He looks so adorable like that, all sleepy and pouty, and Harry can’t deny him a single thing. He pecks him on the lips and squeezes in next to him on the bed. Louis puts the tanning lotion on his back, rubbing it in slowly in almost lazy circles until he finally drifts off with his hand still low on Harry’s back and his head resting on Harry’s shoulder. Harry watches him for a while longer, loves seeing him relaxed and happy like this, before he also closes his eyes.

 

 

*

 

Harry wakes up to Louis straddling his thighs and kissing down his back. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and he feels warm all over, still sleepy and a bit heavy with the sun on his skin. He folds his arms under his head and opens one eye just enough to look at Louis over his shoulder. Louis looks rested and happy, smiling down at him with his eyes crinkling in the corners. Harry hasn’t seen him looking this relaxed in a while; it’s a nice change.

 

He lets his eyes drift closed again as Louis rubs circles into his shoulder blades, not digging in hard enough to make it a proper massage but not so gentle that it’s just a touch. He kisses the back of Harry’s neck and lets his hands trail down to Harry’s sides, his elegant fingers slotting perfectly into the dips of Harry’s ribs. He trails his lips down Harry’s spine, bringing a hint of teeth into it every once in a while, just enough to make Harry shiver; he pauses when he gets to the dip of Harry’s spine and licks at the sweat that has pooled there. Harry lifts up, arching his back, raises his arse up a little and spreads his legs almost as if it’s instinct to get into that position when Louis’ behind him. He thinks maybe he should be embarrassed by that, but all he’s feeling is turned on.

 

Louis holds him by the waist and bites at the softness of his hip. “Bit eager for it, aren’t you, love?” He’s grinning against Harry’s skin, his fingers digging into Harry’s waist and preventing him from moving any further up.

 

“You started teasing me while we were still on the plane,” Harry complains. He hopes Louis is planning to follow through on his teasing this time because he’s getting hard and he hasn’t been fucked in way too long by their standards; Louis’ the one who spoilt him and got him used to regular orgasms, so really, he only has himself to blame that Harry’s a bit needy now.

 

“And I’m not about to stop now,” Louis replies. He slides his hands down to Harry’s hips, grabs at his love handles and squeezes so his fingers sink in the way Harry knows he likes. He buries his face in Harry’s arse, pushing the swimming trunks into his crack and making him clench at the uncomfortably harsh brush of fabric there.

 

Harry’s upper arms are beginning to shake and his back hurts with the strain of holding him up in the weird half-kneeling position he’s in and he lets himself fall back down on the bed. He’s almost fully hard now, his cock curved towards his hip and trapped between his lower belly and the bed cushion. He can’t resist grinding down a few times.

 

Louis lets go of his hips and presses one hand down on his lower back to make him stop. “Really, H? Fucking the mattress? You’re young, but you’re not _that_ young,” he teases.

 

Harry whines into the pillow. He’s starting to sweat more, a combination of the sun and Louis’ touches making him feel hot all over. He can feel Louis’ hand slipping on his skin when Louis moves it down to his arse and hooks his fingers on the waistband of his swimming trunks. He doesn’t take them off though, instead yanks the waistband up and lets it snap back a bit lower, slapping against Harry's skin and probably making his arse jiggle. He gasps at the sting that only sets in after. Louis’ fingers dip under the waistband again, two of them sneaking between Harry’s arsecheeks teasingly before he stretches the waistband again and lets it snap even lower. This time Harry expects the slight burn that follows. What he doesn’t expect is for Louis to bend over and give him a love bite at the bottom of his spine, then soothe it with a gentle kiss before licking all the way up his spine. Their bodies align and mold together; Harry can feel every dip and curve, the slightest tickle of Louis’ chest hair on his upper back, the press of Louis’ hard cock in the crease of his thigh.

 

“You can, you know,” he mumbles into the pillow. It’s getting hard to breathe with the humidity and warmth and he’s sure his face is already red from all the heat he’s creating by breathing mostly into his own chest, but he likes that, it turns him on even more, makes everything just that little bit hotter, sharper, more urgent.

 

“Hmm? What did you say, love?”

 

Harry tilts his head down so his forehead is resting on his forearms again and his face is not completely mashed into the pillow. “You can play with my arse if you want. Cleaned when I showered,” he clarifies. He can hear that he’s slurring a bit, that his voice is deeper than usual, rough with sleep and arousal.

 

“Did you now?” Louis asks, voice lilting teasingly, but he’s lifting his hips up almost immediately, getting a hand between them and pushing Harry’s trunks down to expose his arse completely. His fingers trail up from Harry’s balls all the way to the bottom of his spine and back down. He bites the side of Harry’s neck. “You _want_ me to play with your arse, don’t you?” His voice gets lower and raspier as he speaks, the way it does when he’s getting breathless from fucking Harry and Harry can feel his body responding; his cock is starting to leak and he clenches under Louis’ teasingly gentle fingers.

 

“Yeah, I want it,” he agrees even though he’s not sure if Louis is listening. Louis’ fingers stop moving, come to rest on his hole instead, two of them pressing down just gently. They’re dry and rough and not pushing nearly hard enough to go inside, but the light pressure is there, the promise of more making Harry twitch with excitement.

 

Louis kisses his cheek before he’s kneeling up and squirming down his body. “I suppose it would be a shame to let all that effort go to waste, wouldn’t it?” He ends up kneeling over Harry’s calves, bracketing his legs and holding them tightly closed. It goes against every instinct in Harry’s body not to spread his legs, not to arch his body, not to try to entice Louis into touching him any way that he can, but there’s something really hot about being kept in place like this, held down with little more than the implication of Louis’ word, that has his cock leaking all over his trunks.

 

Louis holds his legs right above the knees tightly and gives him a rub up to the tops of his thighs, his fingers slipping under the shorts bunched up there. He doesn’t pull them off though, just leaves them there and gets his hands on Harry’s arse instead. He kneads at it, digging his fingers in almost to the point of pain, until Harry's moaning into his arms and pushing down into the bed as he tries to get away. He gasps when Louis spreads him open.

 

He knows Louis is looking at him. He blushes a little, still not entirely used to being so exposed, and in broad daylight too; he clenches his hole a few times, the way he knows Louis likes to see, delighting in the little noise Louis makes at that. He doesn’t have the perfect round arse that Louis does, but he knows he’s not exactly lacking in the department either and he definitely knows how to work with what he’s got. He tenses his muscles and arches his back as much as he can. Louis circles his hole with the pad of his thumb and doesn’t warn him before leaning in and kissing it. Harry makes an embarrassingly high-pitched mewling sound and shivers all over and then Louis gives him a quick lick and Harry moans louder than he ever dares do at home.

 

“Are you hard?” Louis asks, one of his thumbs tracing the rim of Harry’s hole.

 

Harry almost wants to laugh, but Louis’ mouth is still hovering just above his hole and every breath Louis lets out hits him where he’s wet with spit, distracting him. He ends up just whining and pushing his arse out a bit, trying to get Louis to eat him out properly.

 

Louis just squeezes his arse. “Wet?”

 

Harry tangles both his hands in his hair and pulls on it to clear his head a bit. “Mmhm,” he manages. He’s lying in a weird position, his back arched, arse up and head down and he feels almost suspended in the moment as he waits for Louis to react.

 

Louis places a smacking wet kiss on his hole and whispers, “Good,” right up against it before licking up and back down over it. Harry’s whole body crumbles like a puppet with its strings cut; he melts into the bed with a pitiful sound. Louis doesn’t falter for a second, keeps his arse spread and licks over his hole slowly. He’s teasing, pausing with his tongue flat over Harry’s hole, spit dribbling down his tongue and getting Harry so wet he can feel it running down over his balls.

 

Harry’s always loved getting rimmed, loves how wet and dirty it feels almost as much as he loves the intense intimacy of it, and Louis always eats him so good he wants to cry. Today is no different. Harry is shaking already and Louis hasn’t even done anything special. He tugs on his hair and whines a bit into the pillow; he wants to spread his legs and kneel up, push his arse back into Louis’ face and ride it, but he doesn’t think he could even if Louis weren’t holding him down; he feels boneless, loose and relaxed almost as if he’s already come.

 

The tip of Louis’ tongue circles his hole, prods at him with just enough pressure to make him moan, but not enough to slip inside before going back to running wet circles over the muscle. Harry grunts in frustration and grinds down into the bed, feeling the trunks stick to his cock where it’s wet with precome. He stills suddenly when Louis pulls back and gives one of his arsecheeks a harsh spank. “Shit,” he breathes into the pillow, relaxing again. Louis’ hand goes back to holding his arse open.

 

Harry can feel droplets of sweat running down his back. He’s had his eyes closed for so long that all he can see is darkness; he’s not even sure how much time has gone by and the only thing he can hear are his own shallow breaths. He knows the waves are probably washing ashore not that far away, splashing against the wooden poles of their deck, that the sun is probably making his back glisten with sweat and pink up with the beginnings of a tan, but he can’t feel any of that. He’s suspended somewhere outside of time and space as he waits for Louis to touch him again.

 

Louis doesn’t tease him this time, dives right in, latches onto him and sucks on his hole the way he does when he eats his own come out of him. Harry can’t wait for _that_. He moans loudly when he feels Louis’ teeth grazing lightly over his rim. He’s pulling on his hair almost constantly now, so used to it he hardly feels it anymore. Louis’ fingers are sinking into his arse, squeezing so hard he thinks he might end up with bruises in a few days if they keep going like this; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to being all marked up.

 

For now though the only thing he can focus on is Louis’ tongue lapping quickly at his hole. It’s working him up, making him tense up. The muscles in his thighs jump with tension and he starts to squirm in Louis’ hands, the quick, barely-there touches of Louis’ tongue too much and not enough all at once. He can hear little breathy whimpers slipping past his lips and he’s so distracted he’s starting to drool. He wishes they were in a different position so he could suck on Louis’ fingers.

 

Louis’ tugging slightly at his hole is the only warning he gets before Louis’ tongue pushes inside him and he clenches in surprise, yanking on his hair so hard it makes his scalp tingle with pain. He’s moaning loudly right from the start, Louis’ tongue wet and soft and hot inside him, opening him easily, so different from a finger or a cock. He’s shivering and sweating all over, his thighs shaking and his toes curling as Louis swirls his tongue around in a circle, touching him in the sweetest, gentlest way and Harry’s just a mess from then on. He sobs when Louis starts fucking him with his tongue, pushing in as deep as he can and pulling out until only the tip of it is still in. He can’t reach very deep, but he doesn’t need to, the unique sensation of his tongue soft and wet and moving expertly inside him is usually more than enough for Harry.

 

Harry’s not sure if Louis does it on purpose, but his tongue slips out at random to lick around Harry’s hole, keeping him slippery wet. He fucks Harry with his tongue thoroughly, though not particularly fast, his lips never leaving Harry’s skin. His quiet moans are muffled against Harry’s arse and his mouth is making increasingly obscene and wet sounds with every second. Harry imagines his face must be wet by now, spit dribbling down his chin and smeared all the way to his cheeks, his lips probably swollen and red. He wants to kiss them afterwards.

 

He whines when Louis pulls away and lets go of his arsecheeks. He can feel the wetness between them, how they slip when he clenches them as he ruts forward into the bed. He expects Louis to tell him to stop or at least tease him about it, but Louis doesn’t react with more than an exaggerated slurping sound and a pop. He’s sucking on his own fingers, Harry realises, getting them wet. He moans, feels his cock blurt more precome in reaction; he’s already leaked so much he’s sticky all over, but he loves it, loves to feel so dirty and desperate for it.

 

“I’m gonna fuck you out here, you know,” Louis informs him, voice gone all deep and raspy. One of his fingers, wet now, circles Harry’s hole teasingly lightly. “Not right now, obviously,” he goes on to explain as he starts pushing his finger in, “but soon. Gonna fuck you on this bed, in the pool, on the deck, bent over that rickety round table.” He leans forward so he’s hovering over Harry, not low enough that they’re touching, but close enough that Harry can feel the heat of his body. He licks at the back of Harry’s neck, his tongue feeling almost cold on Harry’s overheated skin as he starts to move his finger in and out slowly. It’s a little dry and a little harsh, but Harry’s relaxed and loose enough that it doesn’t hurt. “You’re gonna ride me in the Jacuzzi so hard you’re gonna scream,” Louis rasps in his ear, curling his finger down and finding Harry’s prostate with practiced ease. Harry gasps and tries to ride Louis’ finger, the sudden building pressure in his belly too intense to be entirely pleasant, but every time he manages to get even the slightest bit away from the insistent press of Louis’ finger he ends up grinding his cock into the bed. Louis’ teeth sink into the juncture of his shoulder and neck briefly. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, moving his finger in a tight circle, changing up the pressure a little.

 

Harry is too far gone for a coherent answer, ends up only chanting, “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” as Louis speeds up. His cock jumps twice before he’s tensing, his back arching so far and so suddenly he almost unbalances Louis as he comes. Louis milks him through it until he’s whimpering with oversensitivity, twitching as he tries to get away without grinding into the bed too hard. Louis finally lets him, pulling his finger out and guiding him by the hips to turn him over. He hooks his thumbs into the elastic waistband of Harry’s swimming trunks and pulls them down at the front as well, exposing him, his cock still mostly hard and smeared with come.

 

Harry’s had his face buried in the pillow for so long the sun is blindingly bright even with his eyes closed. He throws both arms over his face, stretching to work out the kinks he didn’t realise he’d been developing. His cock is still softening against his hip and he can still feel Louis’ spit wetting his hole, but the combination of heat and jetlag and the postorgasmic high already has him sluggish and slow and sleepy.

 

He feels a warm breath on his upper lip barely a moment before Louis’ lips are pressing against his. He can feel how wet and swollen they are without even seeing them. He moans weakly and kisses back as best as he can. He knows he’s sloppy with it, wet and with too much tongue, and it’s exactly how he likes it after he’s come. Louis bites at his lip harshly before sitting up and it’s only then that Harry realises Louis is touching himself.

 

He blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting against the light. Louis looks larger than life towering over him like this. His eyes are glazed over, lips swollen and red, mouth shiny wet with spit still. There’s a flush spreading down his chest, though Harry can’t tell if it’s from arousal or the sun. He’s got his cock out, shorts pushed down to just below his balls. He’s hard and wet, the head of his cock flushed a deep red at the tip. Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of it, but he can tell Louis is close already. He lifts one leg, pressing his thigh up against Louis’ balls and tensing the muscles as Louis grinds down. He watches Louis’ face, too captivated by how his brows draw together, how his mouth curves, to look away even when he can feel Louis coming on him, adding to the mess he’s already made. Louis is absolutely breath-taking when he comes, frozen for a moment before his features smooth over in pure pleasure. Harry reaches out and runs a hand gently down Louis’ side, letting it rest on his hip. Louis collapses on top of him, panting into his neck but careful not to lie directly on top of him. He laughs breathlessly.

 

“Would it be awful if I just fell asleep again?” he asks through giggles. Harry is about to argue that it _is_ a vacation, resting is what they’re here to do, when his stomach growls loudly, setting Louis off into another fit of giggles. He sits up, bringing Louis with him so he ends up sitting on Harry’s lap, arms loosely wrapped around his neck, their foreheads resting together. He leans in, pecking Louis quickly, feeling him smile against his lips.

 

“Food?” he suggests.

 

Louis scrunches up his nose. “Yeah, I think that might be a better idea.”

 

*

 

Harry watches Louis trying to balance the glass of white wine on his belly as he floats around the pool on a giant float. “You’re gonna spill that,” he warns through a mouthful of crisps. He’s got a wide selection of snacks and sweets spread around him on the deck ranging from safe bets like Twix to much more adventurous choices that he can’t even name, but he figures he should start with something he knows will be remotely filling. They’ve raided the fridge in their room, opting not to go out or even order room service after Louis decided he didn’t want to see anyone but Harry today. It’s not the most practical choice, but Harry kinda likes the idea behind it. It’s felt a lot like their relationship hasn’t been their own in the past month so being all alone, even if it’s for just one day, is an appealing thought. He’s still going to make Louis at least order in something actually nutritious tomorrow.

 

“We’ve got more,” Louis replies nonchalantly, pushing his sunglasses down his nose a bit and giving Harry a look over them. “And I can always just jump in for a swim to clean up.” He looks a bit like a spoilt child of a famous rich matriarch, floating around in a pool when he’s surrounded by the clear blue sea as far as the eye can see, sunbathing naked because there’s no one to stop him, unconcerned with spilling expensive alcohol. It’s one of those rare moments when it just hits Harry how rich Louis actually is. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

 

Harry shrugs. “You just reminded of a spoilt rich heiress for a moment there.”

 

Louis looks over his shoulder with an exaggerated pout, one eyebrow raised and chin jutted out. “Am I Paris Hilton yet?”

 

Harry scrunches up his nose. “I think she’s taller than you.”

 

Louis gasps dramatically, complete with a hand clutched to his chest; the movement jostles his glass, some of the wine spilling over his belly and pooling in his belly button. He curses loudly, grabbing at the glass before it can tip over.

 

“Told you,” Harry says smugly, shoving too many crisps in his mouth at once.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis replies. Harry can practically hear him rolling his eyes. He grabs onto the edge of the pool and pulls himself closer so he can leave his glass on the floorboards next to where Harry is sitting. Harry watches his body move, the subtle play of muscle in his arms, the stretch of his back and the dip of his waist. He leans forward and kisses him. “Salty,” Louis says before holding onto Harry’s thigh as he leans in for another kiss.

 

*

 

Harry can _feel_ the itch of salt on his skin and he honestly can’t wait to shower and get it out. Louis runs into the shower behind him, plastering himself against his back and giggling into his neck. He smells like sweat and salt and chlorine and for some reason Harry still wants to kiss him. He turns around in Louis’ arms and hugs him back. Louis’ cheeks are a little flushed and his eyes just slightly unfocused from the alcohol; his nose is a sunburnt red that Harry finds unfairly adorable. He’s smiling wide, nose scrunched up and eyes crinkled. He looks radiant like the sun, especially against the backdrop of the dark sky sprinkled with stars. Harry pulls him closer by the waist and kisses him soundly.

 

“I could get used to this,” Louis mumbles against his mouth, hands roaming Harry’s chest.

 

Harry snorts. “What, being rich?”

 

Louis starts walking them backwards under the shower, one of his hands settling on Harry’s hip and the other moving behind him to fidget with the buttons on the wall. “This kind of privacy. Being with you all day, not having anywhere to be, anything to do.” He hides his face in the juncture between Harry’s neck and shoulder, places a sloppy kiss there and curves his body so it fits with Harry’s as the water starts beating down on them, perfect temperature and perfect pressure. Harry sighs in pleasure, relaxing into Louis under the spray. “Getting to kiss you whenever I want,” Louis continues, words barely audible as he whispers them into Harry’s neck. “Touch you whenever I want.” His hands slide down Harry’s sides to his hips, fingers curling around the softness there, thumbs tracing the line of the bones.

 

Harry hums and throws his head back, letting the warm water wash away the traces of salt and sweat and sunscreen off his face. He can feel the shift of muscles under his hands as Louis stretches up and trails a long line of suckling kisses up his neck and to his jawline. He sinks his fingers into Louis’ wet hair, tilts his head up and kisses him thoroughly, uncaring of the water dripping over his eyes and making it harder to breathe. One of Louis’ hands follows the line of his hip down, fingers trailing through the sparse hair on his lower belly. Harry makes a muffled noise against Louis’ mouth.

 

“No?” Louis checks, though his hand is already halfway to Harry’s chest.

 

“No,” Harry confirms quietly. He keeps his eyes closed as he pulls Louis closer, hands sliding down the curve of his back to his waist, and buries his face in Louis’ neck.

 

If he listens carefully he can just about make out the whisper of the waves, soothing and rhythmic and different from the beat of the shower against their skin. Louis is soft and warm under his fingers. He smells like salt and sweat and fruity wine and Harry could not care less. Everything feels slow and calm and gentle and all he wants is to cuddle as close as possible to Louis and maybe kiss a bit. He lets Louis grab the complementary mango-scented body wash and shampoo and thoroughly clean them before they stumble out into the room, sleepy and tired, cuddling close together even though the bed is more than big enough for them. Harry falls asleep with Louis’ lips softly pressed against his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)


End file.
